If the wind is strong enough
For us to fly our kites
Go ahead and do that now
An’ if such flying bites
A string is that which ties us to
The world up in the sky
A bog is where we put our feet
And draw them out again
When mother was a little one
She tried to make her peace
But pastor larry thought it bad
And asked that she surcease
She did to please the hoary kind
But feels the sting of it
Now when a man of high degree
Gets her to do something she nees
But let me be as clear as clear
The sky is full of hate
And man and history are both
Getting a little late
They’re getting just a tad too late.
The weather is what it will be
Cold now and late for sun
And in the next two months you’ll see
The sun get up and run
And if the sky is not too bright
And hearts are filled with woe
Go buy a condominum
And to that dwelling go
Go live in it and be of cheer
Our days are numbered few
We all will meet again we say
In that bright world below
The world below is bright and warm
The one above is not
There cold and pain are much sent out
To all the ones who through the gate
But down below ah what a place
The flames give up much light
And even men with poor eyesight
Can read and read and read
And when they’ve done with reading tomes
They to the grave may go
To see whose buried in the earth
And who is not there yet.
This is a poem for meteors
And meterologists
If any one of them should cross
My path I wish him bliss
And this, I wish he has the fun to say
How hot it will most likely be today.
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